


And Remember Me

by nagi_schwarz



Series: The Oppenheimer Effect [70]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 03:34:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9800939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Any, Any,Seasons change with the sceneryWeaving time in a tapestryWon't you stop and remember me(Simon & Garfunkle)"General Hammond's funeral and wake.





	

It was an unfortunate twist of politics that afforded Cam a prime spot at the funeral, Evan a mediocre one, and JD one of the worst ones, when it came to who was going to be seated where at the graveside ceremony. Of course Mrs. Hammond, her children, and grandchildren were seated in the family section. Seated immediately to their right were senior Stargate Command staff, including General O’Neill, Colonel Carter, Daniel Jackson, General Landry, and even Teal’c. Because Cam had been awarded a medal of honor (he didn’t think one could _win_ such a thing), he was allowed to sit beside Colonel Carter (though he’d mustered out as a lowly major).

Evan was a few rows back, with some other former Stargate personnel and some of the scientists. His expression was pale, solemn. He’d exchanged brief smiles and handshakes with some other people he recognized, who recognized him. Not a lot of people moved out of the program before retiring, as Cam understood it. Stargate was for life.

JD and Tyler were tucked far, far in the back, where assorted friends and family and members of the press were gathered. General Hammond had had a distinguished-enough career that he was noteworthy, was newsworthy, and also some people were just - military sympathizers. Came to pay their respects to fallen soldiers, no matter who they were.

There was also a sense of spectacle and ceremony, in a military funeral.

Cam could only imagine how JD was feeling right now - probably a lot like General O’Neill was feeling. Cam hadn’t been able to attend the funerals of most of the Snakeskinners, laid up in the hospital as he was, but he’d been to more than his fair share of military funerals in his time, a good number of them kin, but an even bigger number of them the men and women he’d served with. He remembered the rhythm of arrivals, of salutes, had learned to focus on the flag draped over the coffin so he didn’t have to look at people’s places, see their tears.

The chaplain who performed the service had good things to say, comforting things. For all that Cam wasn’t much for churchgoing these days, the familiar words of the psalms drifting over him were comforting, more for their familiarity than their content.

Cam had never been to a funeral for a general officer before, and the cannon-fire startled him. It set General Hammond’s daughters to crying, but Mrs. Hammond had that same quiet dignity Cam had seen in all the women around him growing up, service wives who kissed their husbands goodbye, always with the knowledge that their husbands might not return.

Cam bowed his head for the benediction, and then the family was called to rise. So many more people than the Hammonds rose to their feet - O’Neill, Carter, Jackson, Teal’c. Cam didn’t chance a glance over his shoulder to see if JD was on his feet. Cam knew what it felt like, to have the right to stand but to be unable.

Then the gun salute. Cam closed his eyes, counted along with each volley, fired in perfect unison. He’d always dreaded the day he’d have to hear these for his father or his brother.

Cam opened his eyes when the bugler began to play. He could hear sniffles all around. Bill Lee was bawling his eyes out two rows back. The family was seated, and then came the folding of the flag. Even though Cam had never been a Boy Scout, he’d learned how to handle a flag from a young age, how to raise and lower the one on the farm, and how to fold it. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he was the one receiving the folded flag.

After the casket team departed, the flag was presented to Mrs. Hammond, and just like that, the ceremony was done.

Sam turned to Cam and squeezed his shoulder. “Hey. We’re having a bit of a family reunion at a place nearby. For everyone with - clearance.”

Everyone with the program, she meant.

If there was one thing soldiers were practiced at, it was celebrating the life of a fallen comrade. Remember well and move on, keep on fighting, because that was a far better memorial than prolonged mourning.

“We’ll be there,” Cam said. Because everyone in his family had clearance.

Sam gave him the address and directions, and then Cam turned, rolled back along the rows of chairs to where Tyler and JD were waiting. Evan fell into step beside him as they went.

“You okay?” Evan asked.

Cam glanced up. “He was your CO longer than he was mine.” Because this was someone else’s funeral, Cam had foregone wearing his medal, though he’d worn his uniform. Having to stop every time someone in a uniform saluted him would get tiresome quickly, and Arlington was crowded with people in uniform. “Sam invited us to the Clearance Wake.”

It took Evan a moment to parse the euphemism, but then he nodded.

Tyler and JD were waiting at the back, near some reporters. One of them was questioning Tyler about why he was at the funeral. Tyler explained that his father had served under General Hammond and they’d come along to pay their respects.

“Who’s your father?” the reporter asked.

“Major Cameron Mitchell,” Tyler said proudly.

One of the other reporters tapped away at her phone. “Not the Cameron Mitchell who was awarded the Medal of Honor?”

“That’s him,” Tyler said, beaming.

The reporter eyed JD. “And who’s this?”

“Family friend,” Tyler said automatically, the response trained into him after things went awry with Damien, and Cam gritted his teeth. DADT had been repealed, but there were some things that still didn’t sit well in polite society.

“Hey,” Cam said, pasting a pleasant expression on his face. “You ready to go?”

“Where are we going?” JD asked.

“Colonel Carter invited us to an informal wake,” Cam said. “She gave me directions to the place.” He fished in his pocket for his keys, handed them to Evan. “You drive? JD can navigate.”

Evan nodded and smiled. “Sure. You boys do okay?”

“Not my first funeral,” Tyler said.

The reporters were watching them, hawk-like.

Cam reached out, squeezed Tyler’s hand. “Not ours either, but they never get any easier.” He inclined his head at the reporters. “Have a good rest of the day.” He turned and headed for the parking lot.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Cam addressed JD. “How are you doing?”

“You know me. I’m the picture of youthful vigor and resilience,” JD said, with just that edge of wryness to his voice.

“We don’t have to stay at the wake for long,” Evan said. “If you don’t want to.”

“Well, can’t have the minors around the booze for too long,” Cam said. “That’s not responsible parenting.”

“If we’re going to a bar or a pub -” Evan began.

“It’s a private residence,” Cam said.

As it turned out, it was Jack O’Neill’s private residence, his fancy condo that was too close to Dupont Circle for Evan’s liking. None of them liked driving in the big cities back east, with their narrow, winding roads and confusion of streets. The condo was crowded with people who’d served with General Hammond. Cam didn’t recognize most of them, but a good number of them recognized Evan.

Awkwardness ensued after Evan was dragged into a fold of former SGC comrades and everyone saw Cam in a wheelchair and people realized that there was little room for him to maneuver. JD deftly instructed Tyler to find a spot on the couch and, in doing so, cleared a path for Cam to follow. Cam rolled after him, parked his chair next to the couch. JD sat beside him, Tyler between them.

Someone pressed a drink into Cam’s hand, offered a drink to JD, who waved it off. When that same stranger went to hand a drink to Tyler, she faltered.

“Um -”

“He’s my son,” Cam said, glancing at the bronze oak leaves on the woman’s uniform. “And he has clearance. He has the Gene.”

“Oh! Okay.”

“But thanks for your hospitality all the same, Major,” JD said.

Cam watched JD out of the corner of his eye, saw when recognition flickered across his face. So he knew the woman.

There were conversations, laughter all around, people moving in and out of the crowds. Evan was gathered around with three other men, talking, smiling faintly, nodding. Tyler’s eyes were wide as he took in all of the uniformed Marines and airmen, the scientists clad in somber suits. He’d spent more of his life than he ought surrounded by adults talking over him and around him; he was a bit of a solitary child at heart and would get overwhelmed in the crowds, and fast.

JD was holding Tyler’s hand.

Evan lifted his head, caught Cam’s eye, smiled. Then he started toward Cam, beckoned for his old teammates.

“Guys,” he said, “this is Major Cameron Mitchell - also retired; his son Tyler, and also JD Nealson. They’re my family. Cam, Tyler, JD, this is Sergeant O’Hara, Colonel Crawford, and Lieutenant Colonel Schwarz. They had my back when we were on SG-15 together, before I transferred onto SG-11.”

Sergeant O’Hara had shock-white hair but didn’t look much older than Evan. He had a crushing handshake, though Cam had the sense it wasn’t out of aggression so much as a bit of obliviousness to his own strength. Colonel Crawford was a bit older than Evan, had dark hair and bright eyes and sharp features, reminded Cam a little bit of John. Colonel Schwarz, by contrast, had bright red hair - so bright it was almost orange - and slyly tilted green eyes, like a lazy cat.

“Major Mitchell,” Crawford said. “Not - Cameron Mitchell, from the Snakesinners?”

“One and the same.” Cam smiled. “It’s an honor to meet you. Thanks for looking out for Evan.”

“So your boys have clearance.” Schwarz flicked a glance over JD and Tyler.

Cam said, “My son does have clearance. As for JD - not that many people have clearance to know much more about him than his name.”

O’Hara fixed JD with his very intense gaze. He was one of those Marines who was always intense all the time. “You know General Hammond?”

“I served under him, yes.”

“Good man.”

“Yes, he was one of the best.”

Before things could get any more tense - Evan looked ready to bake something - General O’Neill stepped into the center of the room.

Everyone immediately fell silent. Cam sat up a little straighter, because that was what a good man did in the presence of an officer like Jack O’Neill.

“You all know I don’t think much of long speeches,” he said. He was holding a crystal tumbler full of amber liquid. “And neither did George, for that matter. He and I were alike in a lot of ways. Both of us were seriously considering retirement when the Stargate Program first took off. Hell, I was retired, and he was about a week away from turning in his stars and setting up on a beach down in Texas. Instead he rallied - and he rallied me - to embark on a path that was - beyond imagining.”

Cam could never have imagined the Stargate Program when he first joined the Air Force.

“They say seasons change,” O’Neill continued, “but the whole universe has changed now. Life as we know it - not the same. Aliens.”

Teal’c inclined his head politely.

“Space ships. Scientists with guns.”

Jackson raised his glass.

“Some things stay the same, though. Like bravery, loyalty, and honor. George Hammond showed us how to be in this fight.”

There was a murmur of, _Hear, hear!_

“He’d want us to keep on fighting. But in the moments between battles, when you stop and remember General George Hammond, remember his fighting spirit, his love for everyone he commanded, and his belief in each and every one of us. To George!” O’Neill raised his glass.

“To George,” Cam said, along with everyone else, and sipped. O’Neill had broken out the good stuff. It burned as it went down.

“If anyone else wants to say a few words,” O’Neill said, “have it out. But once we’re out of the good stuff, we’re out.”

Jackson stepped up, delivered an eloquent speech about all General Hammond had done, the fine tapestry he’d woven of science, military, exploration, communication, discovery, and diplomacy - but most of all how he’d led a unifying effort of humanity on a previously unthinkable scale - across an entire galaxy.

Sam gave a speech about how General Hammond had been a father, a leader, a fine officer, an example of all that was best of the soldiers in the Stargate program, airmen and Marines alike.

Teal’c spoke briefly of Hammond’s honor and bravery and kindness in dealing with people not of Earth, his ability to command and his ability to trust.

After Teal’c, it was fair game - the old stories would start to come out, the laughter would flow and the alcohol would flow, and it would just about be time for Cam to take his family and go.

And then O’Neill said, “JD, you want to say a few words?”

Cam sucked in a breath when people turned to stare in his direction. Tyler hunched his shoulders and ducked his chin, blushing beneath his tan. Evan put a steadying hand on his shoulder.

JD squeezed Tyler’s hand and stood up. He crossed the room and stood beside O’Neill, and Cam’s breath caught in his throat. They were two sides of the same coin, one young, one old; one dark-haired and smooth-faced, the other gray-haired and soft around the jowls; but both of them had the same bright, dark eyes and the same bearing and, damn them, the same smile.

“Most of you don’t know me,” JD said, “and what few of you recognize me probably only vaguely remember me from your 302 flight briefings, and you probably thought I was someone else. I was. And I’m not. But this isn’t about me - this is about George, and all he did. Not just for the Air Force, or Stargate Command, but what he did for the people beyond it. I’m not talking about protecting Earth and the Milky way - no, I’m talking about the way he taught young soldiers and scientists to protect fiercely, to love deeply, and to never, ever leave a man or woman behind.”

Cam saw recognition, then puzzlement cross several faces, saw realization dawn for a few.

“Thanks to George Hammond, I have the best family in the universe - and all of you do, too, because you have each other, and you have the people you love, the people you leave behind when you walk through the gate, the people you do your best to come home too. George Hammond was an incredible leader, and he was an incredible husband and father. May we all share in his legacy and pass it on. To George.” JD plucked O’Neill’s tumbler from his fingers, raised it. Sam and Jackson and Teal’c followed, and so did Cam, and others joined in, and they drank.

JD handed the tumbler back to O’Neill, dipped his chin in gratitude, and turned, headed back to Cam and Evan and JD. Before he quite made it, a major with a pilot’s wings on his jacket intercepted him with a soft, “Sir?”

Evan squeezed Cam’s shoulder and said, “We might be here a while after all.”

Tyler nodded and hopped up off the couch. “I’m going to find a soda.”


End file.
